


In the Air Tonight

by culturevulture73



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Dancing, Inappropriate Use of the Force?, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 17:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8541685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/culturevulture73/pseuds/culturevulture73
Summary: Will the rhythm of the drums finally crack Luke's Jedi calm  and let Han in?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



The drums were a siren call. 

Part old ritual and part tourist attraction, the drum circle was still one of the pleasures of this otherwise unremarkable planet, and as usual Han discovered that this was the night when the center plaza in C'cina's main city began to echo to the seductive beat.

When he and Luke managed to find their contact and gather the intel far faster than they had hoped, he dragged Luke down to the plaza. These days he was unsure where he stood with Luke. There were moments when the newly minted Jedi lived up to his title, others when Han saw the farmboy he'd picked up in Mos Eisley four years gone. Solo had tried to crack the façade, but even the times he'd stolen Luke away from his duties, dragged him into the nearest approximation of bed, the Jedi was still the Jedi. Han was growing tired of trying to slither under Luke's defenses. Gods knew Luke was still worth taking to bed, his eagerness and quick learning somewhere under the control, but stripping that control had proven futile. He had expected it might take cajoling to get Luke to come with him, but he was pleasantly surprised when there was no objection. 

So they joined the milling crowds as the drummers set up, thumped out preliminary rhythms. Then as more joined, the beat began to sinuously rise from the drummers, who took over the steps down into plaza.

Han moved into Luke's personal space as they joined the spectators at the edges, watching the few early enthusiasts moving into the empty space in front of the drummers. The Jedi was wearing a smile Han liked but not the one he loved. No, this one held him at arms' length, the same way that Luke's calm demeanor had since Han had come out of carbon freeze.

Not that they hadn't managed to get back to their relationship. Well, Han amended in his head, they'd slept together. But try as he might, Luke was unshakeable. Even in the deepest moments, he would look in those blue eyes and see something held back, something cracked and sad under the surface.

Not tonight.

Han slipped his fingers around Luke's left hand, sought the blue eyes. Years from Tatooine, Skywalker could still play shy, although Han had quickly learned even in the earliest days that it didn't mean he was inexperienced. The drummers were building to a crescendo and the sunset glinted off the plaza's tiles. Han pulled.

"Dance with me." He slid a thumb over the back of the strong hand.

The blue eyes met his, turned almost otherworldly as the sunset turned to dusk. "Han – "

"You dance – you used to dance with me and Leia before you got all serious."

"Han."

Solo tugged again and moved, bringing them body to body, slid his lips close to Luke's ear. "Dance with me, Jedi."

Luke drew back a fraction and looked up at Han from under his lashes and Han caught his breath. "Okay, pirate."

Skywalker stepped back in the sleek way he did now, drawing Han along with him. Han laughed as Luke pulled him into the rough circle of locals and tourists, moving around the small square. The sun sinking led to the lights strung above the streets coming on, mimicking the stars that would have been visible but for the city lights. More and more beings crowded onto the plaza as the drummers brought it back down to a rough beat for dancing. A few of the dancers were moving in their own style, as if hearing another tempo. The vast majority were in clumps or lines, moving to the beat as best they could. 

Han expected Luke to join the ragged line, but he kept one hand in Han's, faced him. It didn't matter that Luke lacked Han's height. He pulled his Jedi armor that he usually wore for battle around him, making him seem as tall, if anyone had bothered to look in their direction. He slid one hand down to Han's waist, and dictated the dance. 

Han was reminded of the first time they had been here, all three of them. Meeting some rebel contact or another, Han remembered the fun of the drum circle from previous trips to C'Cina and had brought Luke and Leia. The princess had gotten into the fun of it immediately. On a break, they had sat drinking ale at an outdoor food stall, and she enthused that it reminded her of the old days on Alderaan. The men had exchanged a glance at the princess having a memory of her home that wasn't tainted by its destruction. It might have been the first time, now that Han thought of it.

Luke had told them of some Tatooine holiday that Han had forgotten the name of, where the men danced in long lines. He had conjured the dance for them and Han remembered it now, how Luke had smiled then. He'd been the guileless, unguarded youth still, even months after he'd destroyed the Death Star and become a hero. Even on Hoth there'd been moments of that smile, and the sense that something was still innocent under all the grime of war.

But Han had unthawed in Jabba's palace to so much changed. Luke's almost shy smile had been replaced by not so much confidence as a surety that he was on the correct foot at all times. Han had always known Luke would one day lose the innocence but it was less a function of inexperience as a part of what made him Luke. 

Putting all those thoughts aside, Han let the music carry him. A few of the spectators at the outside of the dance circle clapped with the beat as the drummers brought it to another crescendo. Han grabbed Luke's hand off his waist and pulled Luke closer, then slid him back, turning him under his arm. Han hadn't danced in so long, when he used to love it. Not that he was great at it, but there was something about moving to music that was always part of him. Corellians loved drums and he always associated drums and dancing with the few happy memories he had of his home. 

Once he had gone to the stars, dancing was wrapped into most of the good memories he had. The Rebellion had managed a celebration every month it seemed – one group or another had a holiday that involved food and music. One of the few times he could get Leia to not be wound so tight, get Luke to be as brash on the ground as he was in a pilot's seat. After that first celebration after the Death Star, when they had all been completely smashed and he had pulled them into a ragged dance together, he stopped caring how stupid he might look and joined every cultural group's dance, learning to shuffle along to approximately the beat, and then drag Luke and Leia out on the floor. After Endor, with so much more responsibility, the dancing had seemed to die down and everything crushing on them meant he hadn't had a chance to dance with them since before they had fled Hoth. Far too long, in his opinion.

The drum circle switched to a harder rhythm and Luke turned as if stalking him, eyes flashing above the Jedi blacks. Han grinned back at him, challenging him, daring him. He thought for a sliver of a moment that those eyes were those that opponents took to their deaths and then Luke shook his hair back out of his eyes and smiled a dare. The tempo changed again and Han tried to follow the tune, as if they were actually dancing a pattern instead of picking up the beat and attempting awkward steps to it. Luke had somehow learned to find the rhythm and became one with it. When he had gotten this…sexy…Han couldn't recall. But he realized he was being seduced. Maybe they were finally getting somewhere.

He and Luke had once been so close half the base thought and the other half knew they had been sleeping together. He had learned every scar from farm equipment, heard tales of exotic creatures and sub orbital ship races back on Tatooine, told Luke the stories of his own scars, both real and fantasy when the reality was too plain. He knew Luke believed almost none of it, just as if he hadn't seen womp rats around the Falcon, he wouldn't have believed that story. But it made a nice way to ride out the afterglow, feel the warmth of Luke in his arms, lull them both to sleep and let himself enjoy being close to sunshine. 

But the last few times, after Endor, Luke had gone quiet instead. Han tried to pry stories out of him but they were few and short. The lines that the Emperor had left on Luke's body seemed to fade more and more but what he'd gone through on the Death Star apparently hadn't. Luke had told them the whole story not long after the destruction, but the gleam had never returned to his eyes.

Just as they were staring at each other, the drummers announced an hour break. Of course. Han sighed and decided to make the best of it. "Food while we have a chance?" He leaned close to Luke's ear.

"Yes. They had great ale, right, or am I misremembering?"

"Yeah, great drums, great ale. C'mon."

The side street place that they'd gone to years before was still there. Unidentified meat, strange tasty vegetables, in a sweet sour sauce best washed down with the planet's sharp tasting ale. After months of Alliance cooking, it was a pleasure to eat something that wasn't produced in mass quantities. The food was good, the ale cold, but Luke was quiet and Han decided he had finally had enough. 

"I feel you slipping from me, like we're over that damn sarlaac pit again but it's you sliding down the side of the pit, not Lando." Han broke the silence between them harshly but it worked – Luke flinched a moment before the guard came up again. 

He watched the play of thought over Luke's face, saw him decide to stall. 

"I thought you couldn't see that."

"Really?" Han grinned at him, deciding to play along. "Think I didn't see your somersault in front of me? Like you didn't do that to impress me?"

"I didn't," Luke took a hefty mouthful of ale.

"Sure."

"I didn't!" Luke's voice cracked and Han smiled at Luke's look of irritation at himself. Maybe there was another slip. "It gave enough time so that the saber would get to me and also rattled Jabba's gang."

"Right, because you rolling up in all black wasn't just to impress the hell out of me – and Leia. And don't say she's your sister because you didn't know then."

"Han."

"Oh, you know I'm teasin'."

"Yeah." A smile around the mug rim. "It feels good you are."

"Well, somebody has to keep you from thinking that just because you're a Jedi, we forgot you're a kid from the Outer Rim."

"I'll have you know that Leia found out that our mother was a Queen of Naboo." Luke drew himself up and delivered the words in a precise imitation of Threepio.

Han rolled his eyes and sipped at his own ale. "Great. You two keep finding royalty in your family tree. One day you're gonna decide you're too good for a Corellian orphan." He kept his tone light but he caught his breath at the sea change in the knight's blue eyes.

"Never. My father was a slave – you think –"

Not a nerve he'd meant to hit but any reaction was welcome. 

"Simmer down, kid. Just a joke. And more for your sister than you." He sopped up the sauce with the last of the bread. "Good to know you ain't leaving me behind, though." He looked up halfway and was pinned by those blue eyes. There was something thawing.

"Never."

 

The drums got faster as the night moved to midnight. Most of the tourists moved on, but the locals continued to dance and they wove into a line, started following the others in a stomping dance around the square. More than earlier, now that the twin moonrise brought an eerie light, more dancers in their own space or in the long line, it seemed less entertainment than ritual and one look at the almost blissful expression on Luke's face told Han the Jedi had tapped into the noise and rhythm not just for the pure enjoyment of it. Han had seen a few more primitive rituals, knew there were masters of ancient religions who took the rhythm, the sound, and rode it to revelation and it seemed to him Luke was following them. The blue eyes were half closed, then as the music shifted up tempo, the Jedi pulled him out of the line, locked him into a loose embrace and started his own set of steps, as if knowing Han would follow. It moved again to something Han was sure was seduction – or he was going to take it that way. 

He matched Luke step for step as the drums moved out of lock step into free form and he and Luke followed. The sweat, the haze as the lights glinted and the people around them started shouting along with the music, was making him distrust anything he couldn't feel and all he could feel was the beat pounding and Luke locking hands around his waist, holding them body to body, keeping them synced. The song ended in a frenzy of hands flung in the air and the drums and other percussion almost a roar that snapped to silence in a breath. The howl of appreciation from the crowd was alive and Luke's eyes on his drew him under. 

They were back at the small room they had rented in minutes, stalked by the continuing drums the whole way. Even up the stairs and with the doors closed, the sound was unceasing and it set their rhythm. Han hadn't added up how long they had been away from each other, longer than the six months that had slipped through his fingers, longer than the training that had turned Luke from the earnest fighter pilot, trying hard to live up to the image of his father, to the black clad knight who swung the saber as if was more a part of his limbs than the mechanical hand. The time slipped back and away as he let Luke take control, move them to the bed, strip off clothes. Their usual banter and jump was gone, under the drums, under the push and pull of what Luke might say was the Force or Han would say desire leashed for months, set free by the drums, the distance from the rest of the war that had controlled their lives for as long as they had known each other.

If they had snatched pleasure here and there, over the months, this was the full banquet. Han surrendered to Luke, let him dictate. The knight still had a leash over his power, but it felt as if Luke was coming from battle to him, and Han always loved a challenge. He stripped the last of Luke's clothes from him, including the glove. He hadn't had the time, the luxury of staring at the man Luke had become, that muscle that gave him that frightening power. Then Luke smiled and moved, taking the last of Han's clothes from him, not that he would have raised an objection. Just enough to have time to kiss him without the worry of one more mission breathing down their necks. 

But still there was something. Down on the bed, nearly lost, he looked into Luke's eyes and saw something struggle to get free before that damnable control choked it back. Han had had enough. Even as the need burned in him, he pushed back, holding Luke still under him. "Luke, damnit –"

"Han –" Confusion as he looked up.

"Let. Go." He sought Luke's eyes under his hair falling back into familiar bangs. "Please. You keep walling yourself away from me."

"If I let go – "

"What?"

"I shouldn't be here – with you – as a Jedi –"

Han smirked at the war of need and duty in Luke's voice. "You're lying here in bed with me and telling me that? Liar."

"Shut up for once. If I let go with you – you have no idea what power I am keeping under control. I could…there's these old writings about Force bonds. I could lose control and bind you to me."

Han laughed, half lust, half desperation. And amusement too, when Luke stared daggers at him. "Kid, I'm good. I'm not that good." He smiled at the eye roll, then slipped one hand against the stubbled cheek, turning serious. "And if you think I'm not bound to you already."

He felt Luke gritting his teeth under his palm. "Listen to me, damnit. Not like you think."

"No, you listen to me, Luke. You think I stuck around for four years because, what? I'm not bound to you and Leia? Kriffin' hell, how many times have I risked my life for the two of you again?"

"This is different – you're the one always complaining about me reading your mind."

"And you always say that's not how the Force works, so stop. I 'll take the chance. You wall yourself away from me, from Leia, I know you want to be the perfect Jedi but not with us. Not with me. Not here." He leaned down and kissed him thoroughly. As Luke tried to fight it, Han held him fast. He knew Luke could shove him away so he tightened his hold, daring him. He could swear the thought jumped from Luke to him, that he could end this with just a bit of effort. 

As it echoed, he sought Luke's eyes. For a minute, an hour, he simply stared at Luke. The blue eyes finally softened at the scrutiny. "Han."

"C'mon, Luke. I've missed you. Don't hide away – you keep hiding away."

Luke closed his eyes but before Han could process, Luke looked up with playful scowl. 

The blue eyes met his. "You're insufferable and stubborn as a Wookiee, you know that?"

"Yeah, I do. That's why you love me." He slid a hand into Luke's hair. "Now, where were we?"

Luke smirked. "I don't know where you were, but I think I need to teach a certain Corellian some things."

“Oh, really?”

In the next moment Luke had him flipped and pinned, but it was the fire in those blue eyes that took Han's breath away. “Ooh, yes,” Luke growled. “You wanted unleashed? I hope you're ready.”

“Promises, promises,” Han snarked back, and laughed soundlessly for pure joy when Luke bit his neck. “Gonna make you pay for that.”

“Good.” 

They teased and played, Luke's talented mouth and eager hands matched by Han's skill and sense memory of exactly those spots only he knew that set Luke off, on his way to the obvious ones.

Luke's iron control finally snapped in the moment he came. Han savored the climax, as always loving seeing Luke 's blissful smile, even as strained as it had been lately. But this time… Han was suddenly overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure that started in his mind, then sparked through his own body. Before he could even process what was happening, Luke was pulling him up, capturing his mouth and, as he did, Han heard the familiar voice in his mind. Whispered endearments seemed to overlay a rawer emotion underneath. He could almost see the soul deep cracks that mirrored the streaks of Force lightning still tracing his skin, however faintly. 

Han brought his hands up to frame Luke's face. He ignored his own body screaming at him for release, knowing somehow that those cracks were what he had been trying to fix for months now. He had no idea how he could see them, how to fix them, then he stopped thinking, sunk into the emotion Luke was projecting, and knew. He poured pure feeling back, caring and love, what he had felt as they had held Luke when he had told them what exactly had happened on the Death Star. Heard again the shaky voice describe the lightning, the fear for them, the way he had felt his father's conflict change at the last. He dimly wondered if Luke had felt anything of the soothing Han had tried to send him that night. But he was sure Luke could feel it now. 

Luke opened his eyes just as Han looked at him. Nodded at him, then laughed, as he used to, as if everything finally made sense. Han was about to ask when Luke flipped him again and held him down, grinning at him. He heard "your turn" in his head and savored the way the grin lit up Luke's face, the way that their emotions almost seemed entwined. He sank into it, luxuriated in feeling not only his own pleasure but Luke's. How could Luke have been worried about this? 

 

Han was half asleep when Luke finally separated their thoughts again. Still, he could feel Han's protective streak as a thread between them. If this was the bond, then Luke would savor it. He hadn't felt this calm and peaceful…

Since before a night in the Hoth snow, desperately waiting for morning. He had no idea that there would be times after Bespin he would want that night back.

They had not been able to enjoy this, just drifting in each other's arms, since Endor. They'd stolen away moments but so much had pressed in on them. And Luke would admit that most of it had been his own worry about his control, so hard fought. He remembered the Emperor taunting him about his friends and wondered if Han and Leia had been there, would he have surrendered?

Now he had given even more of himself to Han and he found he didn't care. The connection they had tripped to life meant far more than allegiance to some ideal of those who had gone before and weren't here now, had left him to fight his own battles at Cloud City and on the Death Star. So he would carve his own Jedi path. If that meant a Force bond with a smartass smuggler, then so be it. 

He felt Han stirring under him, then a strong hand slipped around his right hand, entwined calloused fingers with the mechanical ones. He almost flinched, more startled than…

“Does it still hurt?” Han asked softly, the rumbly purr that Luke loved to hear under his ear. 

He'd deny it, but Luke was now sure there was some Force sensitivity in Han. To have seen his battered soul.... "Sometimes. Sometimes everything hurts.”

“I can still see the marks, when I'm close to your skin. Faint but they're there.”

Luke shivered as Han’s long calloused fingers slid up his forearm, finding one of the lines of Force lightning that still faintly glowed under his skin. “I…felt that you were trying to ease them."

“Hate seeing you hurting.” 

Luke closed his eyes, his head against Han’s chest, the furnace warmth lulling him. “You know you can't protect me forever.”

"Just want you to be happy. That wrong?"

“No. But I'm not the kid any more. I grew up while you were gone.” 

“I know. Damn well know on nights like tonight.” Luke looked up into the lascivious grin. "But you know I ain't stopping. For you or her."

"I know. She does too. " Luke stretched but ended up curled even more around Han. "I'm sorry you thought I was pulling away."

"Listen, stop playing the great impenetrable Jedi, we'll be fine."

Luke raised his eyebrows and couldn't resist. "Impenetrable?"

Han stared a full ten seconds before he cracked up. Luke joined him and was rewarded with the old crooked grin. 

"That's better. Wanna hear you laugh more."

"Oh really?"

"I miss the farmboy sometimes."

"I do too. He sure as hell had less problems. All he wanted to do was get off Tatooine. Never expected to be a Jedi Knight, fight the emperor, be the brother to a princess."

"Sleep with a pirate."

"Han, I'm sure I had that dream but I was 8, it was kissing, and I thought the pirate would look like Leia."

"She'd make a good one. If you'd told me when you and the old man hired me what I was walking into…"

"You'd've run in the other direction." Luke drew a pattern in the dark chest hair. But he looked up when Han didn't laugh. 

The hazel eyes met his. "What's my life without you and Leia in it? Nothing."

No other answer to that but to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jessebee & Holly C for the above and beyond beta! Thanks to the drummers of Asheville, NC for the inspiration - if you're ever there, go downtown on a Friday night and enjoy the drums. And thanks to Mark Hamill for saying that Harrison Ford is "like that cartoon where a little frog sings and dances brilliantly but then, when somebody shows up, he won’t do it. He is one of the funniest people I ever met. He’s wacky and goofy, he even dances, until somebody walks into the room, and then he’s back to that cool Harrison persona.”
> 
> I hope you like the gift!!


End file.
